To Underland or Wherever
by White Maid
Summary: Miles and Daniel have fallen into abysses of their own worlds, their different timelines and their fears clashing into one. And here they are, in this twisted world and meeting face to face. Will they go home alive?
1. Disappearance

**(I do not own Amnesia: The Dark Descent nor Outlast. They are rightfully owned by Frictional Games and Red Barrels.)**

Things just went from fantastic to down-right horrible. It had been a single year since Miles Upsher had risked life and limb, literally, to get through Mount Massive Asylum in one piece and now, he was pitching a fit in his office. Silently. Fuming to himself at the paperwork in his hands, he was quick to crumble it up effectively and then viciously pitch it into the nearby waste bin. How were they serious!?

The reporter had told the damn director and cast to not put him anywhere near any asylum's or supposedly abandoned churches, warehouses—and where did they have him going? To an abandoned hospital, of all fucking places! He was refusing, quite bluntly, to that and with the time being almost 10 o' clock in his state, it was his time to high tail it out of his office, collect his papers and go home. Even now, Miles was missing his fingers from the god-awful bone shears of the Mount Massive Asylum's doctor.

Yes, he remembered it all as he picked up the paperwork from his desk and shut down his laptop. No pain medication around and being strapped to a wheelchair, Miles had confronted Death too many times. But the doctor was dead and Miles had almost died himself. …But somehow, he had survived despite the bullets that had been thrown into him like a naturally born target practice board. No. Somehow he crawled out of the damned hellhole and lived. Somehow.

Those nubs for fingers worked well despite their lack of range and length, and it didn't take him long to storm out of the vicinity, grumbling to himself. There was no way he was going to risk his life, AGAIN, just to get footage of some ghosts or old patients forever wandering the area in search of their soul or body. God forbid. The asylum was enough. How he had a sane mind intact was beyond his knowledge.

Hopping into his car, Miles was soon swerving off back home, allowing himself to cool down as he remembered about how much filing he had to do after his last report on a murder in the next road over. Fire dying down in his head, the reporter managed a long and slow sigh, allowing his head to momentarily hit his steering wheel. A moment couldn't hurt, right?

He looked back up soon enough and was letting out a cry of surprise as he jerked his wheel automatically over to right, avoiding a semi that had swerved out of his own lane. Miles made the worst move as he felt his car somersault down a hill and into the nearest river.

People were frantic. The car was in complete pieces, the windows broken, the steering wheel twisted and the metal squished horrifically in several places. A young man came towards one of the chief officers, panting heavily. "S-Sir! Sir!" The gruff man looked over, quick to wrinkle his nose. "What is it, boy? Come on, spit it out!" Breathing in deeply, he coughed once, and then complied. "There's no body."

* * *

Daniel raced onward, lantern in hand and his poor heart racing at the speed of sound. Sweat dripped over his skin and tickled the back of his neck as he darted from room to room. Behind him was something but he didn't dare turn to look back and give it time to catch up. Blowing out the lantern, continuing to race at a surprising speed, he opened the nearest closest door, hopped on in and shut it behind him.

Breathing heavily, Daniel pressed himself against the wall of the wardrobe that kept him safe, hearing the damned thing—pass by? But that didn't make him have any heart to leave. At all. Swallowing dryly, Daniel slid down the wall slowly and hit the bottom of it, allowing him to finally get comfortable as he hugged his knees. Lantern still in his grasp, the male pressed his sweat-coated forehead into them, waiting for the feeling of threat to pass. Only when his heart calmed down and his fingers stopped quivering did he finally stand up and make his way to the doors.

Ever so slowly did he push them open, examining the outline of the room with the bed, curtains, drawers and even the carpet before he decided it was alright to step out. Ah, the hallway on this floor was clear and he still had to look for Alexander. Having finally remembered his own destiny, the effects of the potions had finally worn off and all he had to do was find the pieces of the damned orb and put it back together. Alexander was the man he needed to kill now.

Or did he? What if it was all a lie to himself? Ugh, here he went again, asking questions. Running a hand over his face, he stepped out into the hall then immediately turned back into it. Damnit! Why did he forget his lantern? Opening the doors to the closet once again, he moved a hand in to try and find his only light source in this god forsaken place but he then paused.

"Where the hell-?" Disappeared into a black abyss, the lantern had. Tipping his head to the side, he opened both doors and leaned forward. A scent caught his nose and it was almost familiar. No, it _was_ familiar. Flowers? …No, it was special.

A hand suddenly settled on his back and pushed him into the closet, causing the male to flail and accidentally shut himself in. But he didn't land, no, he did the opposite. He fell into the darkness that suffocated him and Daniel suddenly realized what the smell was; Damascus roses from the one man that forever trapped him in Brennanburg.

"Alexander!"

Said male watched the doors close to the wardrobe and shuddered at the feel of someone's chin resting on his broad shoulder. "Is that what you desired, Shadow?"

"Mm, yes~. To Hell he goes and it now leaves you and me for a fight." Alexander snarled and abruptly walked away, not daring to show the unease in his stomach thanks to its presence.


	2. They Went Down The Rabbit Hole

**(Oh and this story follows the realistic Alice in Wonderland. Y'know, with Johnny Depp. :B It won't be the same thing, however, don't worry~!)**

Miles was so sick of waking up from nightmares. But this was different. Why in Hell's name was he waking up in a nightmare? Brown eyes fluttering open slowly, Miles groaned once at a throbbing headache that seared into his brain before he looked around slowly.

Dear God, he had a horrible kink in his neck and he looked right back down, flinching. But he could still see from the corners of his eyes, but barely with how dark it was. Green grass stretched for miles under the night sky and then there was—What the!?

Bolting upright, despite every kink in his spine and neck, the reporter glanced around everywhere in total awe. This was not where his car had crash-landed at all, because last time he checked, mushrooms weren't the same size as he was. Actually, taller, really.

Slowly, he stood and, indeed, they were taller than the 5'10 reporter that was currently exercising every kink and examining every wound in his body. God forbid. "Where in hell's name am I? Wonderland?" Not like he could tell, but he felt something curling in his stomach. Gradually, the male began to walk down one of the dirt pathways, old sneakers drifting along without too much of a sound.

This was not home. The trees stretched to an unbelievable height above him and the grass was not green, but turquoise. …Wait, no it was turquoise!

Gawking at the grass blades, they seemed to be made of the very gem that was found in jewelry, yet it moved and swayed just like grass. "What did I do, have a drink too much or did I really die?" Remembering the hit of the semi slamming into the front of the car, Miles flinched and shook his head.

"Well, I don't have wings, so I can't be in Heaven. And Hell wouldn't be this perky, for damn sure." Miles tapped a finger to his chin for a moment as he examined the tall mushrooms that stretched well over his height. Just how high were they? …What was this, Wonderland? Probably, yet…there was this…sinister glare from it, as if he wasn't supposed to be here. Hell, it wasn't like he wanted to be!

His walk stayed at a gradual pace as the sunlight filtered through the mushrooms that stretched so high and...what was that? Now standing under the mushrooms, the male quirked an eyebrow before leaping back like a cat having experienced water. Glop fell down from the small folds of the mushroom and splattered on the turquoise grassblades. Miles made a face.

"I'm...not touching that." Yet, as he walked off, he noticed the sticky brown goop had...an intriguing smell. Nothing disgusting but...sickly sweet? Wine? Eugh. Wrinkling his nose, he continued on for another long while, avoiding anything odd. Meaning everything.

_Ring around the rosies_

Miles stopped, quick to look up and quirk eyebrow. Each word was drawn out softly, sweetly and he was captured in its trance, beginning to follow the sound.

_A pocketful of __posies_

Again, a melody but louder this time and he took a left, dangerously off the original pathway.

_Ashes, __Ashes_

Louder. Louder. Peering his head around a nearby tree, its trunk a tender lilac, Miles let his eyes narrow towards the clearing, seeing a small group of children in a clearing. A meadow.

_We all fall_

Cute. Adorable young children, wearing summer dresses and playful clothing that suited their age. They couldn't have been older than five or more. One picked up...something off the ground, a flower it seemed and kissed it.

**down**

That abrupt note from this children sent his mind into a fit and his heart shut down almost entirely. Their heads just rolled off without another word, falling down towards the ground in that small field of flowers. The reporter stumbled to his feet and turned sharply, running away as fast as he could.

Left, right, dead end, back, up, turn back, sharp right... Breathing hard, the male felt one of those familiar little buggers in his side, causing him to slowly kneel down on the turquoise that swayed in the wind. No...no, this was Hell. This was damn well his own Hell.

Miles slowly stood up now, running his hands through that sweat-kissed bangs, his heart throbbing in his throat that gasped for oxygen. Swallowing, ignoring the burn, he continued on through the odd woods, ignoring any little rustle from the wind. Well, he wasn't sure whether or not he liked being outside or stuck in an asylum. ...Here, there was no where to hide and...

The figure up ahead made the young man pause and softly flinch, hiding behind and under the umbrella of a shorter mushroom, fingertips pressing against the stem. Blond locks kissed the male's shoulders and his jawline as he looked down at a golden pocket watch, white gloved fingers flicking open the top of it. The clock within was something Miles couldn't see from this distance but the man was dressed so elegantly. He worried he would start singing and have his head drop like a ball off a snowman's body.

"Oh come now," he muttered, British accent smooth and rolling off his tongue. "_He _said one of them was going to end up here. Through what, naturally, the bloody bastard didn't specify..." Slowly, the reporter glanced around the mushroom, narrowing those chocolate eyes before jumping and hiding again.

That dagger had scratched his cheek and now dug deep into the stem of the giant plant, causing his breath to hitch. "Whoever you are, come out. If you mean harms towards me, I _will _fight." Miles glanced down at the turquoise grass, proving he was thinking. The Brit was coming closer and Miles soon decided to go ahead, pick up his feet...and run.

Turning sharply away from the armed male, he tore off between trees, roots and whatever was reaching towards the sky, his own trench coat licking at the fallen leaves at his ankles. Now, golden ears raised up from the male's hair, long rabbit ears that twitched once and now caught the runner's footsteps. He turned on his heel and bolted after Miles who continued to weave his way through the forest. "Hey! Wait!" Like hell Miles was going to wait!

The brunette continued to speed off and out of the clearings and, up ahead, he noticed something that made his stomach turn. Green, sick fog, rolled and cake over the top of the nearby swamp. Mud pools and dead trees were scattered everywhere, no doubt to say that this place wasn't meant for newcomers. But did Miles really have a choice? No.

Heaving a groan, he dug his feet into the ground and was barely over the boundary line before he was being pulled back, a hand on his shoulder and snatching onto his shirt. A few seams ripped from the push-and-pull force that nearly choked Miles before he was feeling his arms becoming pinned to his sides, the stranger bear-hugging him to keep him as still as possible.

"Are you mad!? You can't go in there! The Red King will eat you alive!" Miles, despite his evident struggles, seemed to look at the other in bewilderment, frowning sharply at the British male.

"And why in shits name should I listen to the likes of you!?"

"Well, do you want to be at the guillotine or the stake? 'Cause he'll do both without a second thought in his own head!" Icy blue eyes met the reporter's chocolate orbs and with such a sheer gaze of dislike that Miles 'did' stop. The blond nodded once after a moment, both breathing hard from the struggle. "Good, good. We're late enough as it is."

"Late? For what?"

"A meeting, now come 'on.'" Miles felt the gloved hand grab his wrist before beginning to tug him along. And as he followed, he now noticed the small deformities of the impatient man.

"…Are you—" He cut him off.

"My name is Johann Weyer," the blond explain, glancing over his shoulder towards Miles to notice he was staring. "…What? Never seen a rabbit before?" One of those long, blond ears twitched softly and the reporter was wondering if he 'was' in Hell, for Christ's sake.

"Not like you," he muttered, ripping his hand away from the other. Weyer held his hand out to make sure that Miles didn't try to run again but was convinced he wouldn't when the human walked by his side. Once more, they both traveled through thicket and brush, making their way to God knows where. And soon enough, Miles's curiosity got the better of him.

"Just where 'are' we going anyway, Johann?" The rabbit was now flipping open a pocket watch and sighing, a look of exasperation dramatically painting his face. "We're going to visit an old friend of mine. …Listen—"

"That what I've been doing," the reporter snapped.  
"Alright, alright, I'm just making sure your head is not in the clouds." Weyer held his hands up, as if to come the ticked fellow down before he began to speak. "Now, what I was 'going' to say was that the reason you're here is because you're conflicted. You're struggling but with someone else."

The rabbit held up a white finger and then suddenly spun on his heel, throwing his arms out to motion to the woods around him. "You and someone else are experiencing torment and torture, and now worlds have combined from the torment in your souls. You may not know him, you may have heard of him, or maybe you don't know each other at all.

"You will find alter egos of those that affected your memory and in a sense, this is your personal Hell that your mind has created for you. Don't be surprised if any familiar faces come forth for you."

Miles stared at the male now, watching him adjust the gold and white uniform he had on, the tailcoat uniform looking as if it didn't have a speck of dirt on it. "You've gotta be shitting me."

Weyer looked to him, an eyebrow raised into his gorgeous bangs. "I don't believe I'm 'shitting' you at all. By the way, unless you remember your name, I'm afraid you are going to go from Mr. Namless to 'Alice.'" A sly yet faint smirk came onto his lips now as Miles's face turned red.

"My name is Miles Upsher. Not Mr. Nameless. And not. Alice. Also, who is the 'someone else?'"

"Oh come now, don't be such a sour puss," the man said. "Besides, my friend doesn't really like people with pursed lips and furrowed brows. ..And you and I…will both see soon enough, no?"

Miles groaned lightly, looking suddenly tired more than anything else. "And you're not giving me his name. Who is he? Or she? The madman." Weyer seemed to take his time in answering this one as he softly shrugged.

"We only call him the Mad Hatter." Weyer paused, hearing a wooden think of something hitting the nearest tree, which was just to his left. Glancing there, the blond was soon looking at Miles who had stopped and slammed his aching head into the tree. Slowly, the rabbit blinked and let his arms fold slowly, an inquisitive eyebrow moving to his hairline.

"Great…" the reporter mumbled after a long while. "More madmen. I've already dealt with them with their heads screwed on backwards. I don't want to meet him. And this further proves that this is Wonderland! You're the White Rabbit, aren't you, Johann?"

Said blond felt a grin slip onto his lips before he managed a shrug. "Suppose it is, suppose it is. What would you do then?" Bright blue eyes now focused on the reporter who let his lips clamp together tightly in thought and with no answer. Johann wasn't surprised as he continued on.

"Let's not make ourselves any more late. Pick up the pace now, I don't want to leave you behind in case the Red King's cards take a visit. Also, don't drink anything the mushrooms give you. It's fatal wine from the Red King himself, inserted into the sweetest bushes and edible plants to turn many more people into his goons."

Miles, now hosting a red mark on his brow, was beginning to follow again. Might as well not make the rabbit's fur bristle. "Cards? Are they all seriously cards?"

"Technically, yes. There are many cards, yet there are also people, branded with the hearts, clover and spades to prove intelligence and strength. Whatever the low-lives are capable of in this distant world." Weyer's tone grew suddenly passive but the male pressed on, questions naturally flowing from his tongue.

"Are there any other towns that are still filled with…people-people?" Johann did not answer. Not a single word left his lips and Miles could see why. They were pinched together so tightly, his skin resembled the pale tongue of a clam. Miles watched him for a moment longer before he sighed and watched the sun peek through the leaves, making the forest floor look like glitter. At least 'something' looked normal here.

A while of walking was soon turning into a peaceful yet tiring tread but the blond soon held a hand up, those gloved fingers stiff, like cardboard before they were latching around Miles' collar and dragging him down to the ground, beneath the roots of a tree. The reporter flailed his arms before he was falling not-so-gracefully beside the rabbit, who now clamped a white hand over his lips. Weyer put a finger to his lips before he was gradually allowing himself and the human to look around the base of the tree.

Not ten feet away was a horse, as black as night and stomping its hooves roughly into the padded pathway, snorting ashes and looking none too pleased. Its rider, hunched over the long neck of its steed, was beginning to look around, bone-thin and hissing like a feral cat beneath dusty and wrinkled robes. It was probably humid as all hell beneath the cloaks! He didn't seem to care.

He was searching. For both humans. For an Alice. Or two. Watching the man sniff the air like a rabid dog made Miles coil away slowly from around the tree, Weyer not moving. At least, not until the heavy horse hooves thundered off in a distant direction.

Soon, both men breathed easily and began to stand, Miles sweeping his hands along the backside of his coat before beginning to remove it. By now, sweat had gathered along the back of his neck and he didn't wish to smell…

"This way, hurry! Before he makes a U-turn!" Once again, the rabbit was grabbing the reporter's wrist and beginning to haul him along. And he was much faster this time as he sang, "We're late, we're late, for a very important date! Not time to lose, no time to waste, we're late, we're late, we're—"

And he checked his pocket watch. "WE ARE LATE!"

"N-Now hold on-!" Miles couldn't finish his sentence as it took everything for him to stay upright with the other dragging him along like a panicked rabbit. Leaves kicking up behind their feet, Miles couldn't believe the speed the other was going. It wasn't human but, then again…

"We cannot! If we do not hurry, we will not only be minced meat, but the Hatter would surely have my head on a platter!" Miles thought of that and flinched, his breath losing quickly with the fact that his side stitch was back, gnawing at his ribcage.

Weaving, slipping around and avoiding, the two were soon taking a wonderful tumble through brush and thicket, Miles landing on his side and the rabbit barely able to straighten himself as he bowed. "I'm sorry, sir! Terribly sorry! The time-!"

"I know, I know~. Don't worry about it," came and smooth and drawling voice. Miles jerked his head up so fast his neck popped and his orbs widened. The Mad Hatter sat nearby at a crooked dining table, sipping black tea between non-existent lips. His glasses…were only half, the right eye looking through a monocle. A wicked smile came across the Hatter's lips as he adjusted the white-rosed top hat and allowed himself to move it, no doubt a 'hello.'

"I can't be mad at you if you have a friend. …I must ask…is that an Alice~?" Miles looked over the table, noticing the broken, chipped cups and platters and then something he had seen in his nightmares. Medical tools and just now sitting in the empty bowl of punch, or tea…was bone shears.

Miles's voice was more than dry as he spoke three simple words that pried and peeled at his memories.

"…Doctor Richard Trager."

* * *

Oh dear. He had a massive headache, something he only remembered having after he drank…what was it? Something? Oh brother… Slowly, Daniel opened his eyes then flinched to one side, putting his hands over his face until he sat upright.

"Light…" he whispered, beginning to get up slowly to take in his surroundings. What on Earth was all of this? A dream? A wonderful dream of light and bizarre structures? Doing a 360 degree turn, the archeologist was quick to smile then looked around where he had previously lain.

What surrounded the area was a beautiful field of daffodils and small, traveling lavender. Purple was everywhere, as far as his emerald eyes could see and it was simply wonderful. No longer was he in that dank and dark castle. This was much more wonderful.

Daniel breathed in and out, beginning to walk around slowly with his arms clasped behind his back, but only for a moment as he stripped off his coat just to feel as much sun on his form as possible. It held such a delicate touch, to the point it was…well, welcoming and it was no wonder why he felt great. How long had he slept?

The sudden remembrance of who had pushed him through the closet made him jerk slightly. Alex…ander… That was it, wasn't it? Licking his lips slowly, he managed a soft sigh before he stopped. Not too far from where he was, a house, small and built from logs. It was tiny and looked cozy, attracting the male quickly.

Softly, he knocked upon reaching the door. "Hello? Is anyone in there?" No answer. Oh well. With that, he began to walk in slowly, the door unlocked. Piles and piles of dust were scattered around the wooden place. As soon as he walked in, the Englishman sneezed lightly, using his elbow to hide it as best as he could. Even in a new place, he still had manners.

"H-Hello?" No answer. And he questioned such as he saw a little envelope sitting on round table, a drink sitting beside it. Drink me! And the small cake too? Eat me!

Daniel slowly tipped his head to the side, moving to soon softly pick up the tiny bottle. It reminded him of Laudanum and he couldn't help but slowly shake his head in wonder. Juice. That was what it smelled like. Sweet juice. And with that, he sipped at it faintly, hoping that no one would barge in and call him a thief.

Setting it down, the Englishman tasted the drink and wrinkled his nose at the sudden bitter aftertaste. Oh, ew, what was that? In seconds, his world changed as he fell right into his own pile of clothes. His whole form now entirely bare, the male snuggled into the cotton cuff of his shirt, bright red.

"W-What the bloody Hell!?"

"You said a naughty word~!" Daniel jumped about two feet off the pile of clothes before he dived beneath the cotton fabric, taking note of the new…yet familiar voice. His jaw hit the floor as he saw a petite girl off to the side, looking as if she just had her seventeenth birthday only a few days ago. And she had his hair color.

"…Hazel?" The female, as small as him now wiggled some grey ears on the top of her head. Daniel stared at that and her pink tail that curled up in her lap. "I don't believe I've heard of that name before," she muttered, surprising him. However, she soon clapped her hands.

"But! Enough of that! We need to get you some clothes now that you've gotten as small as me~. I'm the dormouse! Just call me Dora, Dory, whatever suits you!" She smiled broadly and skipped over to him now, watching his red face. "And who are you? I already know you're an Alice, so~."

Daniel frowned, beginning to sit upright as he figured his bare chest wouldn't be that much of a surprise. "I'm Daniel. And what do you mean by 'other Alice?'" He frowned lightly, soon jumping as the dormouse got incredibly close to his face.

"My gosh, you're so scrawny! Skinny! Thin! For a man, anyway." He flushed once again and moved to speak but she darted off to the side for a large pair of scissors. Well, 'large' not being initially 'large.' To him, perhaps but not to normal people. Oh, why did he drink that!?

And like that, she was attempting to cut through his clothing, making him freak out now as he rolled to the side. "What are you doing!?"

"You're not going to be getting to your regular height for a loooong time, mister Daniel! So you're going to have to get some clothes by using your own that you can't fit in! Duh~!"

Oh, how cheerful she was. It made him softly sigh, wishing in his heart that he could see Hazel. Yet…wasn't she right there? Right in front of his own eyes? He shook his head softly, suddenly looking exhausted. "What name do you…prefer?"

"Dora!"

"Dora then… Alright. You're a dormouse…so, do you know who set that," he pointed up towards the table, "up there?"

"The White King~!" Daniel raised an eyebrow as he watched her cut through the cotton clothes.

"White King? Why?" Why in hell's name would a King wander in here, set some stuff down then take his leave? And what was with this 'Alice' business?  
"Because you're an Alice—don't tell me you don't know what an Alice is!" And Daniel didn't, making her gasp and begin to hurry up with his clothes, but somehow kept them neat and aligned to make a little shirt and pants. As she did so, she began to explain.

"Alice is a person that is dropped into Wonderland. Wonderland is a place that is made up from dreams and nightmares of Alice, but is also a world that believes a savior will come. That's where Alice falls in and down a rabbit hole!" She nodded and began to fish around for a tiny needle and a long coil of shredded string. Dora began to stitch up the newfound clothes for Daniel, continuing to speak.

"Alice meets a lot of people along the way, them being the Mad Hatter, Caterpillar, White Queen and Red Queen and a lot of others~! Like me!" She smiled at him and looked back to him but soon glanced back down, stitching. "The Red Queen is a bad woman, chopping off heads and disliking her sister, the White Queen. That's kind of how it is now and there's a lot of stories about Alice! But…it's all different, with different endings…different Alice's."

Dora stood up soon enough and began to hold up what she already had, that being a shirt that was stitched together up the front and the back. Moving back to those large scissors, she snipped slowly by bouncing up and down, speaking only when she had the appropriate material cut out for her tiny hands to weave out.

"There's two Alice's. And you're the first one I've seen Daniel! Once I get your clothes, we've gotta see the Mad Hatter! He was the one to actually depict this and I'll be if it isn't true. I'll be finished up with this in a jiffy!"

Daniel's head spun. There was another Alice? There must've been two Kings, Red and White. But what was he going to do? Daniel couldn't fight, was frightened of the dark…and they were wanting help, but with what? And he spoke his question. "What are 'we' supposed to do then, Dora? I mean…I can't even fight."

"'Cause you're thiiin~," she sang, starting on the hemming of the pants already. "We need to de-thrown the Red King and get Wonderland back. Otherwise, we'll all be be-headed, as well as the White King." She bit her lower lip nervously, seeming to think.

The Englishman, too, became lost in thought, pinching his lips together. "…How do I get back to my regular size?"

"Oh! You've just gotta climb up the table and get the cake. A little bit of cake! Not too much, otherwise you'll get bigger than the house!" Daniel blinked, now wondering what in God's name was in that stuff. A sudden top of white was being stuffed over his head, making him jump.

"Come now, come now, arms through, Danny! There we—yeah, there we go! There's your undergarments even and your pants. See how those fit!" Ah, yes, Danny. A nickname his sister always called him. Yet, wasn't she Hazel? No, no. For one thing, Hazel was a dormouse and that tail…well, her ears and tail moved. Twitched. Shaking his head, he dressed as she turned around, giving him some privacy.

Perfect fit and she was quick to notice and smile when he did. It was a bit different from before, his clothes, but it worked. Dora giggled as she watched him adjust it, clapping her hands together and allowing herself to bounce about. Her nightgown swung back and forth around her knees as she did so. "I'm so happy! You look handsome!"

The male faintly flushed as he smiled, scratching the back of his head lightly. However, she was soon beginning to urge him to follow her, grabbing his free wrist and beginning to head through one of the small mouse holes. Daniel blinked, looking around.

It was rather…large, now that 'he' was going through it one his own with the female, and he soon gawked at the height of everything. He swooned a bit, now realizing what a mouse felt like.

Dora carried on, not seeming to notice how green the male was. "C'mon~, this way! And…I think the White King spoke about a side effect to one of the foods you had. Or the drink. Quickest way is through here though!" And she began scurrying off in one direction, making Daniel blink. With a sigh, he soon followed, allowing her to tell more of the story to Wonderland. …What a peculiar story. Perhaps he could write some of this down… Maybe turn it into a book for Mayfair? Huh.

Speaking to one another, Daniel realized the girl was a lot like his own sister that he vaguely remembered, and the more she smiled…the more homesick he felt. Hadn't he also been in Brennenburg Castle? What for again? Oh, right. To kill Alexander… Why again? Actually, where the hell was his journal? And his notes?

Both looked up at the sudden thunder that bellowed through the little cavern of toadstools and moss. Squeaking loudly, much like a mouse, she grabbed Daniel by the arms and dragged him with her under roots of a tree, looking panicked. And that was his cue to hyperventilate. What was it? Thunder? No, there was no cloud in the sky, not a single drop of rain! And then it sped past. Galloping off so fast, to the point Daniel could've blinked and it'd have disappeared, was a black stallion and upon it, a rider that was vanishing like ashes on an angry breath of air. He didn't like it and it felt like a vise had…gripped his arm? Oh, no, that was Dora.

The poor dormouse was clinging to the Englishman so badly, he felt all of his circulation cut off in his right arm. She shivered like a leaf on the wind and swallowed nervously, ears flat. Softly, he coaxed her. "Come on. Let's just get to the Hatter and be quick about it. Hide and run in the shadows, right?" He had skills at 'that' much. And soon enough, running as fast as they could, they sprinted to where the Hatter was.

It was an hour before they really got anywhere new, the female now riding on the tired male's back with a small smile. He didn't mind. Not at all. But he jumped faintly when she dramatically pointed in front of them at what looked to be a tea party. A gruesome one.

The Hatter looked ready to speak but soon paused to smile softly towards the two tiny ones. "Ohoho~. Both Alice's are here~." And everyone looked to the tiny pair and that same pair looked up. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Richard Trager~. Come, come, have some tea. …I won't bite~. And besides, we need to get some questions answered, don't we? Go on, both Alice's say hello."

The brunette male, looking as pale as a ghost, looked down to the two, eyes widening. "…'You' are the next Alice? But you're tiny!"

"Blame the bloody juice I drank earlier. I was lucky Dora found me." He glanced to the girl on his back, causing her to smile. "Oh and please," the Englishman began, "call me Daniel. And I 'would' hold out my hand but…"

Miles faintly grinned and nodded once. "Miles Upsher, I'm a reporter for the newspaper in America." Daniel seemed to understand, nodding lightly to show it. Johann managed a small smile. "Now…let's talk about what made this all come together…shall we?"

Richard laughed lightly, leaning back in his cushioned seat and tapping his fingers together. "Let's~."


	3. A Red, Red Rose

**(Did I mention there would be spoilers? ...No? Oh, welp, now you know. A bit late.)**

Tea cups were passed about to everyone as they all listened to the doctor speak. Or, well, that was what Miles called him now. But for what reason? Daniel made the mistake of asking that as he was adorning Miles's coat. Because he grew out of his clothes. Seems like the male was immune to some potions after a while.

Swiftly picking up his cup of tea, as well as the dormouse's, the Hatter watched Miles snarl and slammed his hands on the white-clothed table. "You don't need to know. All I know is that he is exactly like the 'Doctor' that took my fingers." The Englishman flinched, lips suddenly dry with the fact that the male's fingers, some, were only nubs.

"Oh come now, _I_ didn't do that, dear boy. Perhaps the one you formally know as Doctor did that but he and I are totally different! You see, we are part of your minds, your nightmares and your desires. We are apart of your Wonderland but-!" Richard paused, sipping idly at his tea for a moment. "It seems you were called here in a sense of emergency. ...Aha~, but look! Your imaginary world is corrupted, chaotic and crumbling. And we need you to help us, and that will, therefore, rid your mind of nightmares."

Daniel bit his lower lip as he spoke, stirring his green tea out of thought. Weyer noticed and glanced to him, raising a golden eyebrow. "There is something on your mind." Now everyone looked to him, making him quick to stutter.

"O-Oh! Don't...don't worry about it." But the gaze Richard gave him made the other slowly swallow and speak. "I...can't remember...anything, aside from that Dora looks like my sister."

"OH!" The dormouse suddenly brightened, sitting on a white plate as she sipped calmly at her tiny, plastic cup. "Is that why you called me Hazel, Danny?" And the archeologist gave a slow nod. She seemed to understand his own thoughts now and she nodded.

Richard reached into his hat now, taking it off to show his near bald skull. But, from the hat, he produced several photos. Laying them out in front of the boy, he motioned to them. "Any familiar ones? Faces?" Miles attempted to look as well, seeing...two.

Both Alice's choked on their tea mixtures and leaned just enough to slam their heads together with a rather hollow _thonk! _Both howled in unison as Miles free-fell backwards from his seat, causing the leaning chair to go overboard from the weight. Daniel rubbed his forehead and couldn't help but lightly laugh with the others, Richard the only one practically dying over to the side with hysteric laughter.

Miles sat upright gradually, rubbing his aching head as he watched the others giggle and snort. "Yeah. ...I even see a few faces. Here," he began, pointing a man with an ugly face, his nose no longer there, "and here." Another finger pointed to the face of an elderly male, sunken and dark eyes filled with this...unnerving amount of hope. Or was it insanity?

"_Those_," Trager began, "are Trump Cards to the Castle of Hearts. The Ace of Hearts and Ace of Spades, The Father and...Walker?" Miles paled more than a few shades before he waved them off.

Now it was Daniel's turn to look again. No familiar faces as long as he could tell. Hm... "I don't see any familiar faces."

"I do ask, what might we be doing without having me here?" Everyone looked up and Weyer managed a small smile, motioning a familiar face over to the crooked table set. "Oh! The Alice's have arrived?"

"Herbert!?" Daniel leaped from his seat immediately, looking over the man with chocolate...rabbit ears? Miles blinked. "The March Hare?" And that was what the male was, indeed, as he adjusted his glasses and wiggled his perfect little mustache.

"So, I'm guessing I'm from your memories or nightmares, British Alice?" He then chuckled and stroked his chin, seeming thoughtful as he examined the rest of the table. The brit merely made a face at the other but nodded all the same. Dear Lord, did he not want to reacquire those dreadful memories of dragging a parasol around a desert.

"Yes, you could say that." The March Hare gave a hearty chuckle and moved over, quickly scooping up a cup of tea as he did so, mustache faintly twitching as he did so. With a sip, he spoke around the tea in his mouth, somehow not choking as he did so. "Well! I can tell I'm from your worst nightmares if you made such a face like that! ...Now, Richard, would you care if I showed them around?"

Trager seemed to scan the few of them, noticing how both Alice's weren't daring to look at him. Especially Miles who had this odd look to his face, his nose scrunching up like Daniel's had been only moments ago. "Yes. Feel free, feel free. We don't need them sleeping out here with the wolves, kahaha!" A not-so charming grin came to what was left of his mouth, immediately making Miles pick up a porcelain tea-cup and chuck it right at the cackling male. In seconds, Richard pulled his hat down and protected his face and Daniel gawked as the cup bounced right out of the top hat and soured to the dormouse.

Dora squealed and cowered behind her own cup until Weyer hit it somewhere else with a plate. Daniel's eyes widened as he watched the perfect cup narrowly miss his head while he simply tugged Herbert over to block it for him. Herbert was able to think fast and blocked it with the nearest sugar bowl and it clattered off to soar through the air. ...Only to softly hit the tabletop, perfect condition.

Herbert blinked, running a hand over his mustache while Miles marched off out of anger. "...Uh, ahem, right then. This...way." He began to escort the two away, arms folded behind his back and his uniform becoming straightened soon after. Ah, this would be a long day.

* * *

Gradually, night began to fall over the forest and no one dared to stay outside. Daniel now looked over his new set of clothes, having kept Dora's in his pocket, just in case. Smoothing out the white button-up, he set the silver vest off to the side and along the bed, then gradually slipping into a cotton t-shirt and baggy cotton pants. Courtesy of Johann. Miles was already slipping into his own bed.

The Englishman sighed and soon followed suit, turning out the light and slipping right into the opposite bed in the other side of the room. It wasn't cozy but, it was better than what he remembered. Straw, right? "You can't sleep either, can you?" The low sound of Miles voice made him jump and he soon looked over his shoulder. "…No. I don't think I can." He shook his head softly, heaving a sigh. Miles sat upright now, facing Daniel and, who in turn, faced the reporter.

"Same. So…let's get to know each other." Daniel blinked as Miles watched him, hands faintly folded her e and there. "You already know my name and whatnot. But, maybe I should start with how my…nightmares evolved." The Englishman grew interested and leaned forward and, slowly, the reporter spoke.

Dreams, nightmares and fears drifted together into the tale, Miles constantly flexing his fingers and his body to the left and right. He remembered them all. Father Martin, Dr. Wernicke, Trager and Chris Walker too. Ah, and then there was the damned thing that had possessed him during his death. Somehow…he had lived. Miles couldn't remember what had happened to ensure his safety from there to the white hospital but, even so…

Daniel listened intently and was quick to relate to plenty of the horrific scenes and flinched at the idea of bone-shears snipping through his flesh and bone. He moved to sit near the male, grabbing at his hands to show sympathy. Miles watched his hands carefully wrap around his own and glanced to him, only receiving a sad smile. "It's over now though…right? You escaped, didn't you?"

"…Yeah. But not from my nightmares."

"You and me both, my friend." Daniel nodded and turned away, letting go of Miles's hands to do so. However, to reassure him, Miles set a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. Only after a few seconds did the male move to look up at the other, a faint smile coming to his lips. "I'm guessing you want me to tell you of my story then?"

Miles nodded and pulled his hand away, listening with a sense that it was the same. Not quite. In fact, because of the male's lack of memory from going to here from there. But he remembered several things; his sick sister, his journal, Alexander and the Damascus roses, the servants…and the Orb. But that was it. He didn't know what else was there and where to connect things. The Englishman spoke lowly the whole way through, head low in thought and despair that he couldn't remember. Amnesia.

"…Everything will turn right out in the end, I suppose," he soon muttered, jumping faintly at the low growl that echoed in Miles's throat. He didn't seem pleased.

"My ass it all will. Here we are, stuck in this god-awful land of familiar faces and shitty turn-outs, and you think everything's going to turn out alright?" This time, it was Daniel's turn to be displeased, beginning to stand up. Miles followed suit, standing a good head taller.

"And what has gotten you so rotten, Miles? Do you not take the time to have hope or to see the glass half full for two moments?" Miles roughly pushed him now out of his own violent anger, only feeling a small amount of guilt as Daniel's back hit the wall. Hard. His head swam for several seconds as the reporter continued.

"You might!" Miles began, voice growing volume as he forced Daniel to keep close to the wall, disliking their close space with his anger flaring so high. "But I don't! Because I've been in too many fucking messes for you to tell me what to do, because with my own wits, I survived. And here you are, cowering in fear and you lack memory. Because you're nothing but a little optimist."

The archeologist gritted his teeth and pulled his hand back to clench his fists and then throw a direct hit into Miles's gut. Turning himself around abruptly, he raced out of the place, despite how he lacked proper clothing. Miles, out of breath and clutching his stomach, watched him run out. Would he catch him now? Probably not.

Daniel's ran not too far but out of the safe haven Herbert had showed them. Leaves and sticks hit his bare feet but he didn't mind, really. It was better than glass and blood. Adjusting the button-up pajama top, as well as the cotton pants, he attempted to relax. A shudder raced down his spine at the cold and he jumped sky-high when he felt a callused hand touch the back of his neck.

Whirling around, he nearly screamed at the beaten face in front of his own, and the only thing that kept him from switching genders momentarily was the hand clamping over his mouth. Trager kept a firm hold on his mouth, slender fingers wrapping around his jaw and chin, as if he had no problem with keeping someone under control. "Something has startled you, my dear boy. What troubles you~?"

Daniel felt the hand remove slowly and he swallowed, shaking his head at the sudden offer of tea in the man's hands. "I just…made Miles angry. I didn't plan on it—" Rough fingers were placing over his mouth once again and the male was feeling…suffocated, perhaps?

"Shhh. The man is a little hot-headed. Give him some time~," he purred. Daniel felt his gut turn and twist at the soft noise that came from the male's lips. There was something off about how he enjoyed just keeping the archeologist silent. As if he had done that numerous times. How unnerving! He nodded against the other's palm and Trager took it away.

"Good, good. Now, would you like to come with me? I believe I might have a wonderful garden to show you!" Daniel seemed to perk up and that was the only thing that made the Mad Hatter start to walk off, taking one direction off the path. But—

"But wait, I'm only in—"

"Your pajamas, yes, I know~. But who will be out here to see you in some cotton clothes~? Me, of course, but I have no sexual intentions!" Daniel's face contorted. "I did not mean it like 'that.'" Did this man not understand modesty?

Once more, Daniel was taking in the sights of everything, pushing back the argument in his head as he let his hands fold behind his back. Everything was so lovely! The further they went, the brighter it seemed to get. Mushrooms glittered and glowed like the little bugs that floated about. Turquoise grass, what a sight!, glistened and swayed around them, flowers humming a sweet tune.

"Daniel…look up!" Richard pointed skyward and the Englishman did so, quick to gasp at another marvelous sight. Swooping down casually was a large bird, wings about as tall as he was and layered with red, violet and pink feathers. "That is what we'd like to call a Songbird~. Go ahead. Whistle a tune."

The male looked towards the white rose-covered male and then back up. Softly, he whistled a quick tune of four notes and not two seconds did the lullaby echo back at him. It was so smooth, this melody! Pouring from the relaxed throat of the black-beaked bird, the notes echoed and made the young man merely stare.

"Amazing."

"Yes, it is, isn't it? And look! We're almost to the gardens~" That lipless smile that he now gave was rather unnerving until it ducked back behind the high collar of his tattered and violet coat. Nevertheless, smelling a familiar smell of roses nearby, it made him forget entirely what startled him. He resumed following the Hatter without much hesitance.

Gazing around, Daniel soon raced up to a nearby tree, that was littered in fire-colored butterflies, sparks softly winking off their wings as they sat on the trunk of the tree. Not a single one moved as Daniel got close.

"Ah~, Alice! Careful, they have a tendency to bite!" The boy sighed and turned to the male. "I am not Al…ice." Daniel watched the male disappear around a nearby tree but…his green orbs had caught ahold of a more beautiful sight. Red roses were lining up slowly, sprouting gradually from the turquoise grassblades. Tipping his head to the side, he moved to watch them and they began to make a trail, disappearing in the front and popping up in the back.

"E-Eh?" Daniel began to follow as its pace quickened, a sweet, heavy aroma of the roses filling his nose. So sweet, this smell was, and the further he drifted away from Trager, the more strongly the flowers swayed in the fresh breeze. Were they inviting him? Beckoning him to venture further into the woods?

Bare feet began to pick up pace along the mossy ground, his movements swift from plenty of practice as he avoided the mushrooms, hands grazing their stiff stems. The red continued to trail on and on and by the time Daniel was out of breath did those magnificent roses lead him to a clearing. With the moonlight shining upon the grassy plain, the Englishman couldn't help but try and gasp between his own pants.

Slowly taking to a walk, the male lead himself around the area, stepping carefully despite the light of the blue moon. Yes, the blue moon! Blue, indeed, and he furthermore wished for his journal to write such a spectacle down.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Daniel felt all of the hair on the back of his neck go upright and he spun around. His eyes widened at the stranger that now stepped forth into the moonlight, taking in the fact that this man was…well, beautiful. Hands behind his straight back, his honey-golden eyes scanned the male before him. Daniel did the same, watching the newcomer.

"Y-Yes…" Trailing off lightly, Daniel immediately took in what he was wearing. A long cloak, as red as blood, fluttered behind him in the breeze, a foot staying along the ground and clipped to his shoulders securely as his shirt and vest became contrasting colors of red and white. Black pants matched the nearly knee-high boots that laced up the sides and were so polished they shined like the moonlight in his silver hair. Braided over his shoulder, it was kept out of the way of the crown of strange onyx that sat on his head.

"You are staring, dear boy. Have you never seen a King before?" He chuckled softly and took a bow now, causing Daniel to panic and bow before him in return, a bit flustered.

"F-Forgive me, sir! I had…no idea. W-Well, I mean I—" The light laugh that came from the silver-haired King made him look up, particularly out of wonder. The King straightened from his bow and moved closer to the archeologist, who stood still.

"Come now, I do not mind informalities. Even upon first meet as I 'did' happen to give you a sudden fright." He smiled softly, making the boy ease into a stand. The kindness of this man was…warm but…wasn't he forgetting something? Despite his own smile creeping onto his face, he felt insecure. What was told, what was told at the table from this evening?

"What brought you here, young man?" Daniel became flustered once more and spoke, clearing his throat.

"I followed some roses, sir. You see, they were simply growing up on the spot and-and I had to follow!" Once more, his face lit up in simple glee and wonder, causing the King to smile and take a step back. Suddenly sweeping himself into a low bow, his cape flourishing behind him almost with experience. And as he did, a rose was brought forth in his hands.

"It seems you are like me, stuck with a strong fascination of roses. Here. In this world, they will never die." Slowly, Daniel took the rose and raised it to his lips, softly smelling the flower without much hesitation.

"Thank you, sir!" Wait… Slowly, he looked over to the male, feeling his stomach churn. "What do you mean by…'in this world'?" A small grin spread over the King's face as he straightened once more, standing a head above the other.

"Only an Alice can see the Trailing Roses, dear boy," he murmured as Daniel's head spun, fingertips numb.

"W-Who-?" Vision swaying as he dropped the rose, he felt the male catch him before he fell, vision fading to dark. "K-King—"

"Of Hearts. Alexander at your service, as you are at mine~."

* * *

Trager had noticed the male was gone about two minutes after he had disappeared. Never had he raced through the forest this fast, lop-sided boots slipping around on the loose-leaf ground. "Daniel? Daniel!?" Turning here and there he was soon pausing catching the faint smell of roses…and seeing bare footprints faintly outlining the dirt.

Letting his tongue lick at his teeth with a nervous click, he began to race against time, or so he hoped. "Daniel!" Keeping a white-gloved hand on the brim of his tophat, he darted here and there and nearly faceplanted as a turn suddenly landed him right in front of the clearing. All that remained in this empty clearing, was a red-red rose.

"No…No! NO!"

* * *

At three in the morning, Miles woke up to someone screeching maniacally, something about roses and cards. Clearly knowing who this was, the reporter gave a groan, turned over in his bed and buried his face into his pillow. Oh how he wished he had earplugs. What got him up was the sudden stab at his ear with a polished thumbtack.

"OW! HOLY SHI—" Looking down, he frowned and quickly swatted at the little mouse who dived down into his bedsheets with a squeak. Miles rubbed his ear as she slowly looked up, ears twitching.

"M-My apologies…s-sir. B-But D-D-Danny is m-missing." And it was clear she wanted his help. Heaving a tired sigh, the male ran a hand through his hair before peeling off his covers, making the girl bounce onto a corner of his pillow. Dressing fast, he pulled her into his hands and headed out.

Herbert nearly smacked into him the exact second Miles walked out of the hollow tree. The March Hare grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him so hard, even Dora almost tumbled out of the male's hands. Miles blinked several times, eyes wide for a moment as the male began moving his voice to a loud volume and then to a whisper. "Daniel's missing! Gone with the wind because of Trager and his late-night walks! Oh dear, oh dear! What if the Cards have him? He won't be able to get out alive, oh nonono!"

"It's barely even morning," Miles muttered, soon swatting the male away who went over to Johann to mumble to. Ah, and there was Richard, sipping tea like it was coffee for a tired man and sitting on the crooked table. Dora squeaked softly and looked up at Miles, who seemed to be debating on…something. But he soon moved over to Trager.

"Trager." Said male looked up and raised an eyebrow. Miles continued. "What do you plan to do now, now that an Alice is gone?"

Richard gave a slow and rather uncomfortable smile before he chugged the rest of his tea that was way too hot for any natural being. Tongue and cheeks burning, he spoke anyway. "We gotta get him back. And he's upset at you, by the way~." Miles only sneered.

"He'll get over it." Richard tsk'ed at the male as Dora frowned, folding her arms at the reporter. Was that why Daniel had been out of his room in the first place? She now made a rule to not talk to the one who held her unless it was important.

Herbert joined them suddenly. "How do we get him back?"

"Why, we talk to the White King, of course! He will know what to do!" Richard nodded and began to suddenly pull the white cloth from the wobbly table. With quick movements, he began to just pack all of that tea and the awkward tools into the makeshift bag. "Glad we drank all that tea~."

"Correction, sir. 'You' did," Johann said. Trager looked to the large bag of white now and then gave a soft cackle, hearing the china click as he set it on his back. "Oops~." Johann looked like he could've choked the male with how careless he was with the china.

Miles sighed and set the dormouse on his shoulder before he began to follow them all, Herbert questioning where they'd go. Oh. Terrific. Through he mucky fog of the Black Forest. Weyer's ears and tail, fluffed out as much as the March Hare's, was clear that Miles had almost encountered this forest before. Didn't Johann tell him to not go there? …He was going to find out.

**(This might be a bit jumbled. O.o I used notepad, it disappeared, used word from school and then combined them and...Yeah. Any mistakes, let me know. xD)**


End file.
